


Dead Bird’s Lullaby

by tjstar



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Delirium, Drug Addiction, Gen, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Horror, Hotel Oblivion Reference, Psychological Torture, Relapsing, S3 Speculation, Surreal, The Sparrow Academy (Umbrella Academy), Withdrawal, evil sparrow!456
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: While Klaus saw seven Sparrows in the Academy, his siblings could only see five.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & The Sparrow Academy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	Dead Bird’s Lullaby

There’s seven of them. Six, technically, because one of the Sparrows is a floating cube. And, a _not-Ben_ has just called them assholes; there’s nothing _new_ about it, but the situation takes such a surrealistic turn.

Klaus gasps,

“Did you… Did you really adopt that Malevich’s Black Square?”

Reginald doesn’t respond, pursing his lips. His glare feels like a spike in Klaus’ heart — oh, he knows this glare. As if Reginald’s eyes are full of poison that’s about to spill. As if Reginald is about to say _three more hours, Number Four!_ and slam the mausoleum door shut. 

Five tries to say something, but just exhales a cloud of air instead. Klaus’ lungs are frozen, he can’t stop shivering, and there’s a high-pitched ringing in his ears, his brain is all hazy. Adrenaline wears off, anxiety kicks in, all the sounds are muffled. Somebody screams; there are steady flashes of green, the sides of the cube are lit as it gets closer to Klaus and his siblings.

This thing might as well be radioactive. 

On the periphery, Diego stutters out,

“W-what’s that?”

Klaus wants to cover his ears and his eyes, he can’t breathe as he hears the voices of the ghosts, screaming, pleading, threatening to rip his heart out of his chest if he doesn’t save them. For a brief second he thinks he can manifest them, for a brief second _he thinks_ his powers work and he shields himself with the souls of the _victims._ They’re sucking in the air, Klaus’ chest is tight as exhaustion squeezes his ribs, his heart throbs with pain. He can barely see the silhouettes of his siblings through the veil of delirium; they try to hide from the ringing and cold. Klaus’ hands shake so badly he can’t keep his fists clenched. 

Another pang of a paralyzing fear makes him lose control over his power. 

A thought crosses his mind —

_“Huh, maybe that’s how Ben felt before he died.”_

*** 

He’s suffocating. To be honest, he’s not even sure if he should be still breathing, because he’s apparently dead again; he thrashes, feeling weightless and miserable. His nose and mouth are full of water, his lungs are burning, lacking oxygen when he finally reaches the surface. His wet hair sticks to his face, obstructing his vision, and the only thing he can hear is his ragged wheezing as he tries to replace the liquid in his sternum with air. He’s naked, there’s a leather belt wrapped around his bruised arm, and he’s coming down from the bliss he hasn’t felt. Bits of memories creep in: the Sparrow Academy, the not-Ben, _the cube,_ and a barbed wire of terror around his neck. He has to get up and find the others. 

Klaus looks down and almost pukes at the sight of a syringe on top of his clothes. _Not again, please, not again._ His fingernails are bitten and bluish, he can barely cling to the edge of a bathtub to get himself out of the cold water.

“So, Reggie’s alive again.” 

Klaus’ whisper is far too loud for his sensitive ears, his skin’s on fire; his head is heavy, and the pressure in his skull builds up as he bends over the side of the tub to get the towel. He can’t believe he relapsed again, he nearly drowned himself in a shitty bathroom with a single flickering bulb on the ceiling. He still has Dave’s dog tags around his neck; his coat and a sexy cowboy hat are gone, there’s only his black pants and a vest. His boots are damp inside, but the floor is too cold to even stand on it barefoot so Klaus sighs and pulls them on. 

This is not the first time when he wakes up God knows where after doing God knows what, but he usually had _Ben_ to clear up some details. Klaus hugs himself and groans; after being sober for years, this withdrawal might just kill him. His right arm is itching, the crook of his elbow is all black and purple, his veins scream for more, and his first instinct is to get more, to get high and quit. 

He doesn’t have to be the lookout anymore. 

He peeks out of the door, carefully, not quite sure if his bad trip is over; Klaus leaves the bathroom and steps into an endless and narrow hallway with the row of lamps on the walls. Some of them are shattered, some of them make the shadows turn to violent and bloodthirsty monsters. This place looks like an abandoned hotel, but there’s no doors to knock on. 

Klaus’ heart is about to leap out of his chest when he notices a familiar blue flash in the end of the hallway.

“Five?”

Nothing.

He clears his throat. 

“Five? Buddy, is that you?”

There’s a _pop_ behind his back; he whips around so fast his brain doesn’t make it in time. He’s dizzy, he closes his eyes for a second, sweating through his clothes and leaning against the wall as his knees buckle. His tongue is as dry as a cardboard as he mumbles,

“Five?”

“How did you know?”

“What?” Klaus rubs his face and stares at the girl standing in front of him. She’s dressed in a red coat with the Sparrow Academy emblem and black pants. Curious, she touches his arm, but nothing happens — her fingers come through his skin like a brush of cold air. 

“How did you know that I’m Number Five?” 

Klaus shakes his head in attempts to make his thoughts flow the right way. 

“You’re dead,” he chokes up.

“And you can see me,” the girl smiles with the corner of her lips. “Jayme! Come here, he can see us, I told you!” 

She sounds somewhat cheerful, but this hallway and the fever don’t let Klaus understand if it’s a good sign or not. When he’s not looking for the ghosts to contact with, they’re looking for him. All the time. Of course. 

Another ghost doesn’t look excited as it appears. It’s a figure dressed in an oversized black hoodie and black ripped jeans.

“Come on, don’t be a bitch,” Number Five coos, ripping the hood off. “He can help us!” she turns to Klaus. “Meet Jayme, my sister, well, she’s not in the mood, but…”

“Stop it, Sloane,” Jayme quickly pulls the hood back up. It covers half of her face. 

Klaus blankly raises his HELLO hand. 

“You’re Number Six, right?” 

Jayme nods. 

“We don’t use our numbers anymore.” 

“But still, how did you know it?” Sloane cocks her head. “Is it a part of your power?”

“My brother, Five, he had… Has similar powers. He can blink himself wherever and whenever he wants, well, sometimes it just doesn’t work right, and I end up in… Places like this.”

Klaus doesn’t want to open up about his family, but Five’s alternate self is dead. 

“I call this thing “teleporting”, not “blinking,” um,” Sloane points out. “We’re so different.”

Jayme scoffs. 

“It wasn’t your brother who made you end up here. It’s just...” 

Sloane tugs at the sleeve of her hoodie, making her trail off. Klaus frowns. He hates secrets, especially when he’s going through the withdrawal. 

“Where am I?”

“You have to figure it out,” Sloane says. “I’m sorry,” she adds. “There’s nothing we can do to help you.”

And Jayme asks,

“What’s your name?” 

He didn’t expect that. 

“Klaus,” he scratches the umbrella tattoo on his wrist. “Number Four.”

 _“Our_ Number Four used to be my best friend,” Jayme lifts the hem of the hood to glance at him. “You don’t look like my best friend.”

She and her sister turn away from Klaus and walk down the hallway, slowly, as if beckoning him to follow. He has to get a hold onto the wall to take a step; he doesn’t want to communicate with them, but one question slips off his tongue, 

“Why didn’t you go into the light?” 

The ghosts stop. 

“We thought we’d have a chance to talk to our family,” Sloane says. 

Huh, classic. 

“You know, the afterlife is a myth,” Klaus clicks his tongue. “You either disappear in a void or get stuck in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Said a heroin addict,” Jayme deadpans.

Klaus swallows her words along with the bile-tasting lump in his throat. 

*** 

They lead him to the room — just a regular hotel room with the two beds and a small table in the corner — with the vent underneath — and that’s when Klaus begins to suspect something. He’s been _there_ before, in the exact same room, coming down and sweating through the bloodied towel wrapped around his hips. He’s been there before, tied to the chair and with his mouth taped shut; he’s been there, locked in a closet, and now panic sinks its fangs into his very being. More ghosts surround him, calling his name again and again, again and again. He hears Ben’s voice, telling him not to give up, to talk to the dead and learn their secrets, but all he wants is to die right there and then. 

“Klaus?”

The reality shifts again, he doesn’t hear Ben, he doesn’t feel Ben anymore; he’s trapped in his own mind, having to deal with his addiction again. 

“Hey, what the h—”

Klaus vomits, holding his hair away from his face since there’s no one who can help him go through this torture again. Foamy water fills his mouth and splashes out, mixed with his stomach acid and grief. He sputters, coughing up mucus from his blackened lungs, wishing he could just suppress his feelings and emotions. It’s almost like a ritual. When he’s done heaving, he sits on the floor next to the bed, hugging a trash can.

“Gross,” Jayme comments. 

Klaus spits,

“Thanks for the compliment.”

His ghost “companions” sit on the mattress, not seeming to care that he’s suffering. 

“I’ve never seen a real medium in my entire life. I wanted to, and now I get this,” Sloane wrinkles her nose. “Incredible. Being dead is so boring.”

Klaus’ throat is all parched when he asks,

“How did you die?”

Sloane shrugs. 

“Teleported myself in front of the bullet to save her on the mission,” she slightly kicks Jayme’s shin. “Was surprised to see her in my little world a few years later. She died because…”

“It’s none of his business,” Jayme bites back. “Look at him, he’s useless! He’s not even trying to save _himself,_ he won’t do anything for us, Sloane!”

Klaus giggles.

“She’s got a point there.”

He doesn’t like the change in Sloane’s tone.

“What do you mean? Isn’t mediumship, like, your power?”

He shouldn’t be that cocky, but he can’t help it.

“It is, but who said that I _enjoy_ using it?”

Sloane raises an eyebrow.

“Who said that you _won’t_ be using it?”

Klaus crawls away from the bed, still unable to get up; Sloane teleports herself in a millisecond, staring him down. 

“When I touched you, I felt it,” she says. “You weren’t honest with us about your powers, Klaus. There’s other ghosts around, older and wiser than us, and they see your potential,” she balls up her fists. “Open the gate, it won’t hurt you if you don’t resist.”

“Open the _what?”_

“She wants to possess you, idiot,” Jayme says. “We got to talk to our siblings once this shit’s over.”

“Ladies, you have really high expectations of me,” Klaus looks at the door, already knowing that he’ll lose the race. 

Sloane gets closer.

He notices dried blood on Sloane’s red coat. Just a speckle, but an evidence nevertheless. 

“You know, I can just teleport myself into you,” Sloane laughs. “Wait, you said your brother used the word “blink”? Okay, I’ll _blink…”_

“Don’t you dare,” Klaus leans against the wall to get up and duck under Sloane’s arm, but she’s much faster than him; her fingers get stuck in his shoulder for a second. 

“Whoa,” she pulls away, amazed. “Didn’t know you could do _that!”_

Klaus yelps, jumping over the bed and losing coordination again.

“I can’t do anything!” 

He has a few seconds while Sloane is recharging. He remembers that Five needed to do that every once a while. 

“Gotcha!” 

Well, Sloane doesn’t need recharging, it seems. 

Klaus covers his eyes, trying to prepare himself for a full-body hit, and to an energy impact that would turn his guts inside out. He remembers how painful it was when Ben did it. 

“Ouch!” 

Sloane’s forehead hits him in the nose. 

She’s not _inside_ of him.

“Why didn’t it work?” she holds a palm against her forehead. “Klaus, what did you just do?!”

Klaus pinches his nostrils to staunch the bleeding and throws his head back; the taste of his blood in his throat makes him want to throw up again. 

“I don’t know.”

He winces at how nasal his voice is. 

“Am I… Tangible now?” Sloane looks down at herself, trying to figure if she’s visible now. It’s funny, because Klaus doesn’t know it either. “You’re full of surprises, alternate Number Four!”

From her position on the bed, Jayme adds,

“And full of shit.” 

Klaus can’t deny that. 

***

He spends most of the day hunched over the trash can. Dehydration makes him feel like a mummy lacking its rotten bandages; he eventually passes out leaning to the wall, curled into himself. Klaus doesn’t know for how long he’s slept when he jerks awake. Instinctively, he thinks he hears the ghosts again. But this time, it’s just music — jazz — coming from the hallway. His vision clears a little, and he realizes he’s alone in the room. He doesn’t feel _possessed,_ and his nausea doesn’t have to do anything with his powers. 

“Withdrawal is a bitch,” Klaus moans, throwing the door open.

The scenery has changed again, the hallway has gotten shorter, and there’s a single door at the end of it. His hotel room disappears as soon as he leaves it; Klaus doesn’t believe his eyes as he slaps his palms on the wall. He has to get used to this place’s tricks. His next stop is a small bar; it’s empty, except for the bartender mixing drinks on the counter. He’s wearing the Sparrow Academy uniform, of course, and Klaus wants to thrust his stupid tie down his throat. 

“Come in, buddy,” he flashes Klaus a smile. “Had a tough night, yeah?”

Klaus nods and waves him a HELLO.

He sits down on the bar stool; the bartender puts a glass in front of him. 

“On the house.”

And he smiles again.

“Taking a drink from the guy I met literally two seconds ago? No, thanks,” Klaus shoves his hands into his pants pockets. “Been there, done that, didn’t like the aftermath. Stranger danger, all that.”

“You’re a careful one, aren’t you?” the bartender chuckles. “Let’s introduce ourselves then? My name’s Alphonso, and I own this bar tonight.”

“I’m Klaus. Shouldn’t we compete?” Klaus asks. Alphonso’s smile fades. 

“We share a number in different universes, isn’t it a sign?”

“Of what?”

“That we should be a team!” 

Klaus shudders when he sees the ghostly silhouettes appear behind Alphonso’s back. 

“What’s your power, Alph?”

“Alph? People don’t usually call me that,” he squints his eyes. 

Klaus pushes a drink away from himself. 

“Well, _I will._ Gotta give each other cute nicknames if we want to be buddies, right? So I’ll kindly repeat: what’s your power, Alph?”

Alphonso puts his elbows on the countertop, leaning closer to Klaus and saying,

“I see people’s deaths. Not just that, I can get a signal that this asshole is gonna drown, and boom,” he snaps his fingers. “I wish that, and he chokes on his tea and dies in a second. Could’ve lived a long life, but nope. I can control it.” 

Klaus tries his best to look unimpressed. 

“Not bad.” 

Alphonso scratches his freshly shaved chin.

“I can’t see _your_ death.”

It’s Klaus’ turn to grin. 

“You’re smarter than you look,” he pats Alphonso’s cheek, mostly to make sure he’s not one of the ghosts. 

A bloodied girl begins to sob. 

Alphonso doesn’t notice her. 

“What’s your power, Klaus?”

“I can see your dead ex bawling her eyes out,” Klaus says firmly. “Right there, next to the fridge.”

Alphonso pales, turning around hastily. 

“You’re bluffing,” he hisses out, his friendly attitude is gone without a trace. 

“Huh, how do you think I found out that you used her as a bait during one of the missions? Fighting crimes? Bullshit,” Klaus laughs hysterically. “She loved you, but _now_ she wants revenge.”

Alphonso grabs him by the front of his vest. 

“Hey, Alph, easy, it’s a brand thing from the sixties, by the way!”

He’s being shoved away, almost falling off the stool. Klaus wants to use it as a weapon, but the crowd of ghosts doesn’t let him focus on the fight. They tell him more and more horrifying facts about his alternate self — Klaus doesn’t want to believe that it could’ve been him — Alphonso served in Afghanistan and seems to know how to kill a man in every single possible way. In fact, he can snap Klaus’ neck and leave him here paralyzed; Klaus hears his bones crack when Alphonso pins him face first to the wall, twisting his arms behind his back. 

“Who told you that?”

“Told me _what?”_

Klaus bites his tongue when the grip on his wrists tightens. 

“About my…”

“Her name was Mia,” Klaus closes his eyes not to see her again. “She told me. She’s standing right there.”

There’s bare flesh where her skin’s peeled off, broken bones stick through the holes in her dress. She’s just one of them, asking for help, wailing and wallowing in their tragedy. Some of them are — were — just lost souls: junkies and drug dealers, pickpockets and sex workers, tax evaders and charlatans. 

“You fought in Vietnam,” Alphonso says. “I recognized the tattoo. Dad told me about them.”

“You’re incredibly smart today,” Klaus mutters not to cry in pain. 

“So, you know what it feels like when you kill somebody?” Alphonso jerks at Klaus’ dislocated shoulder. “When you pull the trigger, when you feel their blood on your hands? You and me are the same.”

Klaus knows. He’s a veteran, after all.

“We are not!” 

Alphonso is really about to break his spine. 

“Are you sure?”

“Ow, ouch,” Klaus throws his head back, missing Alphonso’s face. “Let’s have a deal? I can let your dead sister possess me. Number Si— Jayme, she wants to talk to you.”

It works. 

“You see her?”

Klaus takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah, that’s my power, dumbass… Okay, okay, I’m sorry, just let me go.”

Klaus falls to the ground like a sack as Alphonso stops holding him.

“If you try to fool me…”

“She said she used to be your best friend,” Klaus says, gathering his energy. He needs a lot of it. 

He feels like he’s about to betray _their_ Ben from their timeline. But well, _sometimes you gotta break to win_ — Dave once said, when Klaus was going through the withdrawal in the jungle. Klaus keeps that in mind, memorizes it along with their time together. _“I can’t lose, can’t lose, I can’t!”_ his mind is locked around this thought. Klaus’ fists glow blue, he can see Sloane and Jayme among the ghosts at the bar; they’re holding hands, their smiles are just bared teeth. He can’t even imagine what they could do to his exhausted body after he’s been through all the stages of a psychological torture. 

“Come on, Casper squad, come to daddy,” he whispers, sniffling and tasting blood on his lips again. “Presto! Presto!” 

He knows he can’t summon the Sparrows’ victims without summoning the two dead Sparrows with their killing abilities. Belatedly, he realizes he hasn’t seen Jayme’s powers yet.

Klaus wants to run to the door, but Alphonso’s gut punch stops him; Klaus falls to his knees, getting kicked in the ribs and coughing out a,

“I thought we were best pals already.”

He’s being dragged up, managing to headbutt Alphonso and getting punched in the face again. His jaw is numb, his limbs are heavy, but his fists keep glowing, which means he’s protected himself from getting possessed. 

“You lied to us,” Jayme says, tugging at the laces in her hoodie. 

“No offence,” Klaus tries to shrug, but an aching joint in his shoulder doesn’t let him to. “You’re fighting for your family, I’m fighting for mine.” 

Alphonso looks at the ghosts with disgust. 

“You said she was supposed to possess you.”

“I did even better!” Klaus shouts. “Here’s one sister, here’s another, here’s a bunch of people you guys killed for nothing, you can do whatever you want! Talk, have a full-blown party, an orgy, I don’t care!”

He’s about to kiss them GOODBYE. Well, figuratively. 

Klaus’ jaw drops when Alphonso’s dead ex grabs a bottle from the counter and tosses it to his head. He squats down, the bottle hits the wall, but one of the shards cuts his neck. 

“Make them disappear,” he orders, elbowing Klaus’ aching side. “Except for my sisters.”

Klaus is barely conscious, wrapping his arms around his stomach. If he has an internal bleeding, he hopes it’s not gonna kill him right now, when he has an unfinished business for the first time in his life. 

“It doesn’t work like that. Solve your family problems already and let me go.”

The ghosts enclose Klaus and the Sparrows in a tight circle, Klaus feels one of them squeezing his injured shoulder; he flinches, and the ghost removes its hand from his body. It felt almost like placing an ice pack on a bruise. There’s Alphonso’s hand on the back of Klaus’ neck, pulling him closer as he keeps spitting out threats.

“I’ll make you choke on your own tongue if you don’t make them disappear right now!” 

Klaus finds it funny, the way no one believes him when he says that his power is terrifying, but when it comes to manifesting, it turns out he’s surrounded with cowards. They’re standing in the middle of a boiling sea, and Klaus misses a punch in the head and zones out for a moment. When he blinks his eyes open again, he sees Jayme right in front of him. 

“What’s wrong?” he blocks her punch; he spots Sloane trying to attack the ghosts from the rear while Alphonso is tackled to the floor by a couple of his victims. 

Jayme’s figure changes, as if she’s _falling apart_ into —

Into a murder of crows. 

“Oh, dear, that’s not good.” 

Klaus bumps into the ghosts on his way out of the bar. The crows keep following him, hurting him for real; Klaus covers his head with his forearms, littered with bleeding marks, and he’s too exposed to Jayme’s power. Crows claw at his hair and peck his ears, he’s never been a fan of neither Lovecraft nor Hitchcock. He runs down the hallway, speeding up, stuck in a maze of his worst nightmares. Ghosts, possession, loss of Dave, over and over again. 

He’s scared away his own fears this time. 

He can still hear the ghosts screaming in the bar. 

The crows huddle to each other, closer and closer until they turn into a viscous black mess, taking a human-like form. This time, Jayme’s eyes are gouged out, her lips are bitten to shreds, her right ear is torn and mangled, hanging on a thin patch of skin.

“They killed you, right?” Klaus pants out. “Your own powers.”

Jayme nods, a gash in her neck begins to bleed. 

“And now…” her words come out in a form of a crimson slime. “Now you’re stuck here with the ones your siblings couldn’t even see. Doesn’t it hurt you? Doesn’t it break you? You’re always balancing on the brink of life and death.”

“It wasn’t my…”

Jayme doesn’t let Klaus finish.

“Your choice? Staying alive is always a choice. Especially when you _can’t_ die.”

She turns away; the place where she stood turns to an open door, and the sunlight creeping through the crack is so bright Klaus has to squint his eyes before he takes a step.

It feels almost like using the briefcase again. 

He loses his footing, again, mentally ready to smooch the ground, but somebody’s holding him upright. Klaus clings to his savior, feeling a big muscular body and getting his vision back. 

“Luther?”

“Thank God, I thought we lost you!” 

“Lost _me?”_ Klaus’ brain is too slow. He blankly massages his bruised arm, wait, it’s not bruised anymore. No track marks, no wounds the crows left on his forearms and face. “Shit, I thought I relapsed,” he exhales. 

“No matter what you think happened, just know — it didn’t,” Luther helps him throw an arm over his shoulder. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired.” 

Luther keeps talking, irritated, 

“Those five bastards thought they could defeat us!”

“Seven,” Klaus corrects him. “Two of them are dead.” 

And Luther says,

“Oh.”

They’re on the street right outside the academy. 

Klaus rubs his shaking shoulders.

“That shit felt so real.”

“It all was just one of Reginald’s experiments. That cube… His name’s Christopher, by the way, and he can make you hallucinate of your worst fears,” Luther clenches his fists. “It’s over now. We need to find the others.”

Luther’s so determined, Klaus is worried.

“Where are they?”

“From what I know, all of them got out of… Whatever it was. Maybe we could even fix the timeline and squeeze our current selves in it.”

Klaus feels relief spreading across his chest when he spots Diego and Allison on the opposite side of the street. Then he sees Five and Vanya leaving a small coffee-shop and holding six plastic coffee cups.

“So, is our mission over then?”

Luther shakes his head. 

“Never.” 

“Oh, yeah, we can find troubles in every timeline we crash,” Klaus chuckles. “That’s the style.”

“Something like that.”

Klaus is satisfied with his answer; he’s happy to see the remains of his family alive. 

They’re gonna have to need a long conversation about what the hell just happened.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [my post](https://i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky.tumblr.com/post/640030976647512064/number-five-and-number-six-of-the-umbrella-academy)  
> \---  
> at first i wanted to write that klaus woke up in a morgue. also i wanted klaus and alphonso’s powers to match (kinda), but i like the theory about alphonso being the voodoo guy.  
> i don’t know how i feel about the sparrows yet. guess i’ll find out when s3 is out, but atm i see them as antagonists/monster of the week. idek about ben tho.  
> \---  
> my tumblr: @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky  
> \---  
> thanks for reading!  
> comments/thoughts/theories are very appreciated <3


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